All That Glitters
by LadyBush
Summary: RLSB SLASH: Aged 17, Sirius leaves home and experiences a sexual awakening on the streets of London. He then falls in love with Remus Lupin. Later, when Sirius becomes a glam rock superstar, Remus leaves him. Will Sirius give up everything for love?
1. The Mist Of Heartbreak

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is certainly not mine (a girl can only dream…)

Rating: M for language, lots of slashy goodness, some drug use and probably a bit of sex.

A/N: This story is _slightly_ influenced by the film 'Velvet Goldmine'. It's set in 1972-4: I think the Marauders were about twelve in 1972, so I'm using a bit of artistic license to make them seventeen! The whole story's pretty AU anyway (here presuming J.K Rowling would have mentioned if Sirius Black was a glam rock god!) This first chapter is chronologically set in the middle of the story. Trust me, it's not all this depressing!

**All That Glitters**

**Chapter One- 'Through The Mist Of Heartbreak'**

Remus Lupin drew the fur coat tighter around his shoulders. His breath misted on the cold night air like a mirror image of the swirling Milky Way above. A glance at his watch, told him the taxi was five minutes late. For a moment, Remus considered hailing the Knight Bus, but his wand was packed away in one of his suitcases and besides, he intended to leave the wizarding world for good.

The door to the concert hall's back-entrance opened and a man fell through. He struggled to right himself and ended up crashing into one of the many large metal dustbins. "Shit!" he exclaimed and Remus found himself laughing at the familiar tone.

"You need to stop drinking so much, James Potter!" he scolded in a mock-serious voice.

James spun round and squinted at Remus from behind his glasses. "That you, Remmie? What're you doin' outside?"

"Waiting for a taxi."

"Ahhh…" James sighed. "I thought the fresh air would help me feel less sick," he confided. "No such luck."

"What have you been drinking?" Remus asked, with his usual gentle concern.

"Scotch. God-awful muggle stuff." James pulled a face and then closed his eyes as the blinding headlights of a car shone at him. "Did you say you were waiting for a taxi?" he asked.

"Yeah…" Remus gave James a brief hug and picked up his two suitcases. He flashed James a sad smile. "I'll be off then," he said, a little awkwardly.

"Off where?"

"I can't tell you that."

"For how long?"

"I don't know. Forever, maybe."

James looked worried as he belatedly realised what was happening. "You can't leave!" he cried. "I mean, I'll get Sirius! He'll never forgive me if I let you go!"

"Yes he will." Remus' smile turned even sadder. "And you can tell him…" Remus frowned for a minute, trying to think up the words. "Tell him I'll never forget the time we had."

He climbed into the taxi without another word.

And then he was gone.

* * *

The world was spinning too bloody quickly. James stumbled down the corridor, colliding first with the wall on his left and then on his right. He tripped over something – which fucking idiot had left a guitar amp in the middle of the corridor? – and had to fight desperately to remain on his feet. His arms flailed wildly for a moment before grasping the curled-up corner of a poster. Clinging on desperately, he managed to stay upright until the world had stopped spinning quite so badly. 

And then he looked at the poster. It showed a black and white photograph of a man clutching the neck of an electric guitar with one hand, while the other held a half-burned cigarette to his pouting lips. Eyes lined with dark makeup looked defiantly at the camera; the only sign of life in a picture-perfect, ivory statue of a face. The man was wearing tight leather trousers low on his hips and the photographer had managed to catch a sheen of sweat across his bare chest.

"Sirius," James whispered. "You stupid bastard." His eyes flicked to the writing at the bottom of the poster:

**_The Broomstick Club_** **_Proudly Presents_**

Sirius Black

_**and **_

The Faeries

_**For one night only.**_

Over these words, in glaring red ink, was stamped the message SOLD OUT. James stared at these two words stamped across his friend's name. Sold out. How very true.

All of a sudden, James felt far too sober.

In a quick, violent movement, he ripped the poster from the wall and tore it into two pieces and then into four and then into eight. He crumpled the pieces in his fist and let them fall to the ground, like the pieces of glitter that had rained down on Sirius and his band a couple of hours before.

A loud crash and a muffled, slightly slurred curse, followed by the distinctive sound of a guitar amp being smashed into oblivion made James spin around. Sirius Black took a few stumbling steps towards him - precariously balanced in gold platform boots to match his gold flares - and then allowed himself to slide to the ground. At that moment, he didn't look much like an idolised glam rock superstar. He looked like any other waster who'd had too much booze and too many drugs. There was a cigarette in his mouth and a half-empty bottle of tequila in his hand.

"Jim," Sirius said through his cigarette.

"Where've you been? I was trying to find you."

"On the rooftop. The stars were sparkling, you see."

"Oh," James said flatly. He cast a wary look at his friend. "Are you high?" he asked.

Sirius looked at him for a moment. His bloodshot eyes became less vacant. "I was high." He stared at the cigarette in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. "I'm rapidly coming down again," he said, putting the cigarette to his lips in a pose vaguely reminiscent of the poster.

James allowed himself to slump to the floor next to Sirius. He leant backwards against the wall.

"Where's the band?" James asked him..

Sirius slowly exhaled a finger of smoke. "With the groupies," he said, giving a soft sigh. James turned and scrutinised his friend. Glittery gold and black makeup was smeared round his eyes and his cheeks were hollow. His black hair shadowed his face as it hung limply past his shoulders. The beautiful vitality that had been his scarcely a year ago had vanished, replaced by a wistful tragic beauty all of his own making. "Where's Remus?" Sirius asked. He lightly, almost idly, touched the burning end of his cigarette to the pale underside of his left arm and didn't even wince.

James snatched it from him. "Get a grip," he said harshly. "Remus is gone," he added.

"Gone?" Sirius examined the reddening burn mark. "Gone where?"

And in the end there was no easier way to break the news than to just say it.

"He's left you, Sirius," James resolutely ignored the catch in his own throat and instead tried to be angry because it was about time somebody was. "Remus has left you," he said. "Has that penetrated your thick junkie skull or shall I make it clearer? He's fucking left you and it's your own damn fault-"

James stopped abruptly. Sirius had bowed his hair and his entire body, so thin and wasted, was racked with desperate gulping sobs.

"He's left you," said James. He gingerly extracted the bottle of tequila from Sirius' trembling grasp, unscrewed the cap with quick clumsy movements and then drank until his insides were on fire. "You have a choice," he told Sirius. "You can either be Sirius Black, superstar, rock god: rich beyond his wildest dreams and in the middle of a sell-out world tour."

"Or?"

"You can give up everything; give it all up and go and find Remus."

_Money or love. Fame or love. God-damned bloody hero-worship or love._

"Will you help me?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," said James. "I always do, don't I?"

"I need to find Remus," Sirius said, "And I need to disappear."

**Tbc…**

A/N: Please review!


	2. The Noble House Of Black

Thanks to all who reviewed chapter one: god, Fiona, elvencherry07, Bitter Black Tears, driven to insanity, fhkgfhgdgf, moonyNZ, cofcgirl, Georgie's Girl, Icarus Malfoy, Demus, SxR my OTP, morris and satin insanity. I love you all!

A/N: This chapter is set about a year and a half prior to the last one, at the end of Sirius' sixth year at Hogwarts. In case it's not clear, I intend to tell two stories: Remus and Sirius the first time round and Sirius trying to get Remus to take him back after the split.

**Chapter Two- 'The Noble And Most Ancient House Of Black'**

**July 15, 1972 **

The sound of James knocking on the door was almost loud enough to drown out Sirius' thoughts. And since Sirius' brain had been running overdrive for the past few weeks, the persistent banging was actually quite soothing. Yes, soothing indeed. Sirius gave a long sigh of pleasure as he let the near-scolding water trickle down the back of his neck and over his shoulders, which were stiff and sore.

"I've got a date in half an hour, you fucker!"

Sirius turned around and let the hot water run down his hairless chest. "What exactly is it that you want, Jamesie-boy?" he called, in a pseudo-girly voice.

What James said in reply to that was rather muffled by the door, although Sirius managed to catch the words 'shower' and 'wanker'. He decided to take pity, however, and switched off the running water. The banging on the door recommenced and Sirius reached for his towel. With a groan, he realised that the towel he had brought in with him was a hand towel. An attempt to tie it round his waist proved unsuccessful.

So Sirius, who had always been something of an exhibitionist, abandoned the towel and walked out of the shower naked. He elbowed past a bemused-looking James and gave his best smile. "If you wanted the shower so badly, mate, why didn't you just knock and say?"

It was quite satisfying to see James tongue-tied and Sirius was still grinning as his feet encountered the prone body of Remus Lupin. He fell artlessly into a heap on the floor, from where he glared at his friend.

"Why in hell's name did you choose to write your charms essay lying in the middle of the floor?" he demanded.

Remus blinked back at him. "Why are you naked?" he asked mildly.

And it was in that miraculous moment, that the eighth wonder of the world came into action. Sirius Black – dedicated prankster and serial heartbreaker – actually blushed: and not just a faint rose-pink blush, either. Sirius turned an embarrassingly bright shade of tomato-red as the blood rushed to his skin.

For Sirius this was an extremely worrying turn of events.

He scrambled away from Remus, before too much blood could reach certain other regions of his body.

**July 23**

Remus seemed nervous on the journey from Hogsmeade to King's Cross. His hands, with the nails bitten right down, gripped the red upholstery of the seat until his knuckles were white and stretched. After the third game of exploding snap, Sirius abandoned James and Peter and sat next to Remus.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Remus gave an odd half-shrug and gazed at the floor.

"Come on," Sirius prompted. "I might be able to help."

"I doubt that." Remus sounded bitter.

"Why?"

"Can you cure cancer?" said Remus shortly.

An awkward moment followed this question. Sirius cleared his throat several times. "Who?" he eventually asked.

"My dad."

"Moony, I'm really sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

Remus shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. His throat was prickling and he really didn't want to cry right now.

Sirius rested his hand at the crook of Remus' elbow. Suddenly, his worries over his sexuality didn't seem such a big issue. "How long have you known?" he asked Remus.

"I only got the letter a couple of days ago, telling me to go to St. Mungo's from King's Cross," Remus said. "It's not a very long walk." He glanced at Sirius from beneath his long eyelashes. "You won't tell anyone will you?"

Sirius leaned towards Remus and pressed a quick kiss to the tawny hair at the top of his head. "I can keep a secret," he said. Remus gave him an incredulous glance and Sirius had to laugh. "Well, some secrets anyway..."

**July 25**

The long summer break had never been something Sirius looked forward to with anticipation. In fact, seven weeks with the Black family was somewhat akin to seven weeks in hell, or seven weeks in a torture chamber.

_'Pure-blooded evil sick bastards'_ would just about describe Sirius' family. There was Mr and Mrs Black and Regalus, Sirius' younger brother: only fifteen years old and already up to his eyeballs in the dark arts. Then there was Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa, Sirius' three oh-so-charming cousins.

Sirius managed to survive one day at Grimauld Place.

And then he packed his bags, filling a bulging army-style rucksack and a blue duffle bag with clothes. He packed his wand and his textbooks and what money he could find: sixteen sickles, eleven of which had been won in a chess match against Peter.

At the dinner of the night he left, the Black family were on fine form.

"Why not send the werewolves to labour camps?" suggested Regalus, with an expression of pride.

"They don't deserve to live," said Mr Black.

"We need to join with the vampires," Bellatrix said. "Join the vampires and fight, as allies, against the werewolves."

Sirius instantly regretted packing up his wand. A well-timed boils curse would have been a delightful leaving present. As it was, Sirius slammed his goblet of wine down on the table. "Here, here!" he cried. "Let's kill all the werewolves!"

A murmur of approval went round the table.

"And then, once we've finished killing all the werewolves, we can turn on the vampires and kill them too!" Sirius grinned wildly. "And after that, we can go to Saint Mungo's and kill all the mentally ill patients! And how about all those curse victims who don't have the right number of limbs? And the sick children too! Let's not forget the sick children!"

Sirius scraped his chair backwards. "And then, why then, we can murder all the – what do you call them? – mudbloods! And once we've finished with the mudbloods and we're running out of people to kill… then we kill the half-bloods too! In fact, why stop there? Why indeed! Let's kill and kill until the only ones left alive are Blacks!"

Sirius slammed his fist down onto the table, knocking over his goblet. Red wine seeped into the wood of the table.

His mother gave him a cold look. "You seem to have the right idea, son."

He glared back at her. "You disgust me, whore," he spat. He glanced around the table, meeting the eyes of everyone present. "The noble and most ancient house of Black," he said. "Bollocks to the lot of you!"

With that, Sirius turned around, walked out of the dining room, stormed up the stairs two at a time, grabbed his bags from his bedroom, kissed his guitar goodbye, ran back down the stairs and stepped out of the front door. He slammed it behind him.

"Goodbye, family," Sirius murmured. "Hello, world."

**Tbc**

A/N: Review please!


	3. The Awful Truth Of It

Thank you driven to insanity, elvencherry07, Icarus Malfoy, Georgie's Girl, mystic-angel5, ShatteredDesire and Spicycandy1. 

My apologies to the character of Andromeda Black. In the previous chapter I implied that she was as evil as the rest of Sirius' family. Actually, she was Sirius' favourite cousin. Thanks mystic-angel5 for pointing that out.

**Chapter Three- 'The God-Awful Truth Of It'**

**July 25/26**

Sirius had no idea where to go. The sky was darkening and the tiniest pinpricks of stars were beginning to show.

And he still had no idea where he was going.

It began to grow cold. Bloody awful English bloody weather. It was supposed to be summer.

Above, the Dog-star showed in the velvet sky and yet Sirius, who at best had a hazy knowledge of astronomy, didn't know how it could help him. He started walking aimlessly in an attempt to keep warm. The straps of his rucksack began to rub his shoulders. How could he have known that clothes were so fucking heavy?

Perhaps it was chance, or perhaps it was just blind unfeeling fate. Sirius found himself standing outside the Leaky Cauldron. There were dim lights showing in the interior of the pub. Sirius opened the door and stepped into the warmth. A pair of old hags and a sharp-eyed young man with a small scar at the corner of his mouth watched him as he approached the bar. "What can I get you?" asked the barmaid.

"A firewhisky."

"You'll be lucky! How about a nice butterbeer or some pumpkin juice?" The woman behind the bar was laughing at him- actually laughing.

Sirius glared at her. "I'm-"

A heavy hand landed on Sirius' shoulder. "He's eighteen." The sharp-eyed man was standing behind Sirius. "I know him."

The barmaid squinted at the two of them. "You sure?"

"Aye."

And so it was that Sirius' first night away from home was spent in a pub, drinking firewhisky with a slightly scarred man called Tom; a man who became more and more attractive as Sirius became more and more drunk.

* * *

Remus stared through the glass panel of the hospital door. 

His father had been ill for months. The weight had slowly but surely drained from his body, leaving only a skeleton and skin and pale blue eyes like globes. In his hospital bed, wrapped in white sheets like swaddling clothes, John Lupin almost looked angelic. His frail arms rested in his lap; spidery veins showed through translucent skin.

After each of his shallow breaths, there was a slight pause that seemed, somehow, to foretell a longer pause.

"Why didn't you tell me he was ill?" Remus asked. He turned to his mother, who was sobbing, making odd little bleating noises into a handkerchief. "He's been ill for seven months and you never told me." Remus wrapped his arms around his mother. "I wish I'd known."

Nancy Lupin buried her face into her son's neck. "And what exactly could you have done?"

**July 27**

The healer tapped Remus on the shoulder. "John would like to see you now," he said.

Remus nodded and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. He followed the healer to the room where his father lay, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling with his glassy eyes.

"Hello, dad," Remus said. He pulled a chair up to his father's bed and - a little awkwardly - he encased his father's bony hand with his own. "How are you?"

John Lupin's face stretched into a hollow smile. "I've been better." He licked his lips. "I think I'm dying."

"Yes." Remus couldn't see any point in telling a lie.

"I don't mind dying so much," Mr Lupin said. "I have a few regrets, though."

"What do you regret?" Remus asked.

The hollow smile left his father's face. "Not getting to know you better."

"You can get to know me now. There's still time." Remus squeezed his father's hand. "Ask me anything," he said.

John raised his head a few inches from the pillow. "A secret for a secret. How about it, son?"

"Okay."

The head settled back on the pillow and John gave a small sigh. "Well, then. You can begin. My secret's pretty big; you might find it hard to equal."

And so it was that Remus told his dying father the one thing he had never dared tell anyone else: "I'm in love with another boy… Sirius Black. God, dad, I think he's beautiful."

John Lupin blinked his bulbous blue eyes a couple of times. "Oh," he said. "That _is_ a big secret." His voice was quiet and croaky. "I don't suppose I really mind. It must be good to be in love with somebody."

"It is."

Remus didn't mention the small fact that Sirius would never love him back; that Sirius adored girls with tiny waists and long legs and DD-cup breasts.

It was a while before Remus' father spoke up again. His voice was faint now. "I was fifteen when I met Susan," he said. "She had this long golden hair, all wavy and soft."

"Yes?"

Mr Lupin turned his head to look at his son. "I'm going to die, Remus. If not today, then tomorrow. And I have to tell you before you go… You need to know about your half brother."

Remus let go of his father's hand and drew his chair backwards. "What?"

"I was only fifteen, Remus, when I got her pregnant. I didn't know what I was doing. Raul -that's your brother- is grown up now. He'll be thirty next month. I'd like you to meet him, perhaps, once I'm gone."

John Lupin started coughing. Remus propped him up for a moment and then let his father sink down into the pillow. "I'll say goodbye, son." He pressed a small piece of parchment into Remus' hand. "You can fetch Nancy. I don't want you to watch me die."

Remus left and fetched his mother, who was weeping hysterically.

For a while, he stayed standing in the corridor outside his father's room. He glanced at the piece of parchment. The blue ink was slightly smudged, the writing was a little shaky.

_Dr. Raul Forster_

_Department Of Magical Disasters_

_International Wizarding Aid Organization_

_Ministry Of Magic_

Remus closed his fist around the parchment. It crumpled in his hand and he let it fall to the floor.

He left the hospital and found himself standing on a busy London street. He looked around in surprise.

The day was warm. The sky was cloudless.

**Tbc**

A/N: Don't forget to leave a review!


	4. His Back Against The Wall

Thank you Clear Venom, Icarus Malfoy, elvencherry07, andrea-88, Georgie's girl, mystic-angel5, Spicycandy1, Loonymoon, ShatteredDesire, Bitter Black Tears, MY MInD, ShuffleQueen, Do you do threesomes, Mr Weaving, chaeili.meep., auralay, dance-flirt and Forrest.

Oh dear! I seem to have made yet another mistake with this story… When I introduced a character called Tom I totally forgot that was the name of the landlord/hunchback in the books. They're two different people, okay? Thanks Georgie's girl for pointing that out!

**_Chapter Four- 'His Back Against The Wall'_**

**Midnight, July 28, 1972**

Sirius Black couldn't see the stars.

He tilted his head even further upwards, until his chin jutted towards the sky and the back of his head scraped against the uneven bricks.

All he could see was the purple glow of sodium streetlamps. Definitely no stars.

Sirius sighed, even as lips continued to suck on his neck and a tongue traced the outline of his collarbone. Suddenly, hands that were too eager fumbled with his belt buckle.

And then Tom was on his knees before Sirius, the very picture of subservience.

Somewhere nearby a dog barked. The sound of high-pitched laughter and smashing glass came from a few streets away, where a couple of drunken wizards were leaving the Leaky Cauldron.

Sirius groaned as slightly chapped lips closed around his cock.

"Do you do this often?" he gasped.

* * *

On the brink of ecstasy Sirius bit his lip, hard, determined not to cry out the name that he was screaming inside. 

Remus. **Remus**. **REMUS**!

And afterwards, Tom _didn't_ kiss him and Sirius found himself oddly relieved. A blow job in a back alley was fine but a kiss? That would be the ultimate betrayal.

"Let's go back to my place," Tom said. "What do you say?"

Sirius shrugged. "Allright." He picked up his bags.

"Here. Hold my arm; we'll apparate."

A moment later, Sirius was standing in an entrance hall. "This your place?" he asked. It looked kind of squalid.

"Yeah."

Sirius jerked his arm away from Tom's. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't think he could do this…

"Can I, umm, use your bathroom?"

"First door on the left, mate."

As Sirius walked away, Tom's eyes followed him. It was a relief to finally shut the door. "I can't sleep with him," Sirius murmured, more than a little aware that talking to oneself was an early sign of madness. "I need to get out of here."

He glanced around the bathroom. It looked slightly cleaner than the entrance hall. The bath was quite impressive with huge iron claw feet. Above the sink hung a cracked mirror and Sirius stared at his reflection. He looked tired and gaunt. His lower lip was swollen where he'd bitten it to stop himself crying Remus' name.

"Christ. Look at me," Sirius whispered. "I'm a fucking mess."

"A mess with nice cheekbones," said the mirror.

Sirius blinked. "Well, thanks."

"And dark eyes… You ought to play on that."

"Play on… What?"

The mirror sighed. "Eye pencil: cabinet, far left on the second shelf."

Sirius, not wanting to disobey a talking mirror, found the pencil and smeared kohl under his eyes. He watched his reflection as a lone tear fell and swept down his face, leaving a trail of black behind. "Fuck," he cursed, trying to rub the eyeliner off and succeeding only in smearing it everywhere.

Outside Tom hammered on the bathroom door. "What's taking so long?" he demanded. His voice was muffled through the wood.

"I'll only be a minute. Um- get me another drink will you?"

Sirius listened with baited breath at the sound of retreating footsteps. He waited for a moment longer before opening the bathroom door. The hallway was deserted. Sirius darted towards the door.

It was locked.

"Shit… shit…" Sirius reached behind and managed to spend an inordinate amount of time attempting to extricate his wand from his back pocket. "Shit… shit… Alohomora."

The lock clicked and he was free. Grabbing his two bags he ran out into the night. He could hear Tom yelling behind him: "Where the hell d'you think you're going! Come back, you wanker!"

Sirius kept running.

**11 AM, July 29**

James' mother, Carol Potter, was plump and round and altogether motherly. She had long hair, streaked with grey, and laughter lines around her mouth. "And you won't forget to take the casserole out of the oven, will you dear?" she asked.

"No!" James gave her his finest mock glare. "Now bugger off," he said.

"James!" Carol Potter frowned at her son for a moment. "Your language is appalling." Nevertheless, she pressed a kiss to his head and then ruffled his hair for good measure.

And then - thank Christ - she was gone.

James dashed upstairs and rummaged under his bed until he found his copy of _Witches For Your Broomstick _magazine. "Perfect." He settled down on his bed and admired the magazine's cover at length.

Downstairs, there was a knock at the front door.

"Bugger…" James flung the magazine aside and dashed back downstairs. He opened the front door.

"Sirius!"

His friend looked thinner and more tired that James had ever seen him look before. His hair, straggly and unkempt, had mostly escaped from its ponytail. His black jumper hung loosely off his shoulders. There were shadows under his-

James coughed. "Are you wearing mascara?" he asked.

"Black… pencil… thing," Sirius said. He yawned loudly.

"Right. You look awful." James clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You'd best come in. How long are you staying for? You'll have to sleep on the floor…"

"I'm staying as long as long as you'll have me." At James' puzzled look, Sirius shrugged. "I left home," he admitted. "And I don't have anywhere else to go. Your folks aren't in, are they?"

"My dad's away and mum's at her Knitting Group." James gave Sirius an encouraging smile. "So…" he said conversationally. "Why did you leave?"

"Oh, the usual. You know…"

"I know!" James laughed. "So you've finally left the bastards?"

"Yep. But listen: there's something else I've got to tell you… It's quite important and I don't know how you'll take it."

It was unusual for Sirius to sound so, well, serious. James frowned. He took Sirius by the shoulder and steered him into the lounge. "So what is it you want to tell me?"

And Sirius told him everything.

* * *

"I don't know what to say," James confessed. "Jesus. I can't believe it, Padfoot!" 

Sirius sighed. "Can I still stay here or do you want the fucking queer out of your house and out of your life?"

"**No**! No. You're my best mate. It's just hard to…" James frowned. "So is there someone that you – you know – like?"

"Well, yeah actually." _I'm truly, madly, deeply, insanely, head-over-heels in love with Remus Lupin! _"Yeah… There _is_ this one boy that I quite like."

James gave a weak smile. "Oh. That's… nice." He frowned. "I'm sure there's something I'm supposed to-" His eyes widened into a look of horror. "Holy crap! The casserole!"

James dashed from the room and a moment later there followed an odd yelping sound from the kitchen. The smell of thick smoke filled the house.

A knock sounded from the front door.

"James! Door!" Sirius shouted.

The answer faint from the kitchen, "You get it! I'm busy!"

Half expecting to see his mother on the doorstep (ready to drag him home) and half expecting Tom to be standing there, bulky and scarred and ready to kill him, it was with some trepidation that Sirius opened the front door.

His palms sweated, his breath hitched, his eyes blinked furiously.

The person standing on the doorstep was neither his mother nor Tom. The person standing on the doorstep was pale and slight, with red-rimmed amber eyes.

The person standing on the doorstep was the love of Sirius' life.

"Hello, Remus," he managed to say.

"Sirius, I didn't expect to see you here," said Remus Lupin. He didn't smile. "My dad's dead… Can I come in?"

**Tbc…**


End file.
